-wakeupnfuck- Viola Bailey- Apolonia Lapiedra -... -

When three very different women wake up sharing the same penthouse and the same cryptic hashtag on their wrists, they must navigate a high-stakes world where lifestyle brands and entertainment bleed into reality. The first thing Viola Bailey registered was the silk. Not her silk. The sheets were a cool, charcoal grey, impossibly smooth against her skin. The second thing was the light—a warm, golden wash filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a city she didn't recognize.

Apolonia finally smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “No. We’re the product. A lifestyle brand fused with a reality thriller. Every choice we make—what we eat, how we decorate this penthouse, who we trust—is content. The viewers vote. The viewers decide.”

Then, the scream.

That’s when the first door slid open silently, revealing a long table set for three. On each plate was a single card.

“Who are you?” the redhead demanded. “And why do I have ‘#WakeUpN’ written on my arm in permanent marker?” -WakeUpNFuck- Viola Bailey- Apolonia Lapiedra -...

“My phone is dead,” Apolonia continued, tapping a sleek, dark screen. “No signal. No Wi-Fi. But look at the view.”

The three women looked at each other. The city hummed below, indifferent. The camera lenses hidden in the smoke detectors, the paintings, the potted fiddle-leaf figs, all blinked a silent, red . When three very different women wake up sharing

Viola bolted upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. Across the sprawling penthouse suite, on a matching sectional sofa, a woman with fiery hair and a constellation of freckles was staring at her own wrist.